


Lost Until You Found Me - Halam'shivanas

by Lethallan97



Series: Lost Until You Found Me (Part 1) [7]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Demons, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Lyrium, M/M, Pain, Plot, Religious Fanaticism, Sons of Elgar'nan, The Breach (Dragon Age), The Elven Gods - Freeform, The Veil (Dragon Age), Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethallan97/pseuds/Lethallan97
Summary: The time has come for Fen'harel to make a choice, between his duty and his heart.Halam'shivanas - The sweet sacrifice of duty.Note: It would be better if you read the full series, as this is a progression of a series of events and has plot line continuation from the others parts. This is a MAJOR PLOT LINE part of the story, I recommend you at least have read the previous plot part, Lost Until You Found Me - Trouble.Please head the tags and trigger warnings, this part of the series is VERY dark.-------------------------------------------Overall Series Summary:With Hawke lost in the fade, a lost Fenris joins Fen'Harel in the hopes that if the veil is torn down he can search for her.Solas wanted Fenris for his lyrium brands, hoping that their power can be enhanced to the extent that they could replace the lost foci to tear down the veil, but the two soon become close. Both are broken men, suffering the loss of a love - Hawke and his beloved vhenan - they find solace in one another in their loneliness and grief.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeatheRadio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatheRadio/gifts), [For all the support in the comments you gave me! I really appreciate it!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+all+the+support+in+the+comments+you+gave+me%21+I+really+appreciate+it%21).



> Alright guys, this is it... the big plot part of the series!  
> I have no idea how long this part will be, so bare with me! 
> 
> I'm going to write and write until I feel it's done, rather than pre-plan it like I usually do. I'm really looking forward to writing this, so I hope you enjoy it! :D
> 
> If you would like more to this series afterward, please do comment and tell me! This part will end in a way that it can continue, but I don't know if I will or not yet. I really love this pairing so it won't be the last of me writing Solas/Fenris, I am planning an omegaverse spin off after this part is complete, but unsure if I will continue this plot after that. It MAY be the last of this particular series/plot, unless I get enough feedback saying that they want it.
> 
> Anyway, I begin with a short teaser chapter! :D Because i'm a big tease :P 
> 
> Also, this part is dedicated to HeatheRadio, because of all the amazing comments you left me! I really loved seeing your comments and feedback, it made me want to keep writing so thank you for your support, and I hope you enjoy this part!

“Oh, poor little _whelp._ Look how pretty he looks, all bashed up and on his knees.” The woman leered at him, her greasy blonde hair pulled back too tight and her too thin lips revealed a row of yellowing teeth. Her grip in his hair tightened, pulling his head back so pain shot up his neck and his scalp burned. She stared down at him as he snarled, glaring at her with the one eye that had not yet swollen shut. She brought her knee up and he bit back a cry, which escaped only as a sharp grunt, as it connected sharply with his broken ribs.

“You backed the wrong _dog_. Soon enough our masters will whip him into shape, like the overreaching mongrel he is.” She sneered, her lip curling in delight as Fenris breathed sharply through his nose. He could taste a sharp metallic tang on his tongue that lingered at the back of his throat, and feel his heart beat throbbed in his ears. His swollen flesh pulsing with it, and his head felt heavy as if the back of his skull was weighed down with rocks. He swallowed, his throat churning as he chuckled bitterly.

“So, what? You intend to slash at the veil, like a petulant child? Create another breech?” He spat, and he saw the fury ripple across her face as she was spattered with his blood. Brute force would only punch a hole in the sky, maybe even greater than the one before.  “That will not bring your _masters_ back.”

The fury slipped from her then and she smiled wickedly, and pleased murmurs spread through the men spread out in the cell behind her. She cooed, leaned forward and stroked his jaw with on filthy finger, until he could smell the reek of her breath on his lips and his skin crawled with the blood magic he could feel crawling under her skin like worms.

“Oh, simple boy, we did not take only you.” She smiled, nail scoring a deep mark across his jaw before she gestured behind her. Fenris stared at the cold stone ceiling above him as he waited, hearing shuffling behind her, his vision wavering and rippling as his head throbbed and his neck ached. Something was placed in her hand, and she laughed again, bringing it slowly to his throat.

“We have the Harellan’mi.” His breath caught in his throat as cold steel dragged against his throat, light enough to only drag against the skin but not breech it. His markings flared along with the magic rippling under the surface, one feeding the other as the promise of fire licked up along his veins where it touched. His mouth dropped open in a pained pant, and behind her the metal clang of the door sounded.

“We are ready, lethallan.” She bit her lip in sadistic pleasure as she looked upon his beaten form, and leaned back slightly.

“Then let us begin.” She murmured, and sliced.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get you slipped in with a nice, fluffy start... After this, it will not be so nice :P Muhahahaha

**One Week Earlier…**

“Mm…” Fenris shuddered, panting as the pleasure that had coursed through his veins slipping away into nothing but a pleasant after glow, and the ache of protesting muscles. He felt more than saw the smug, self-satisfied grin of the mage as he flopped over to lay beside him, his absence leaving his sweat damp skin vulnerable to the unpleasant breeze.  

They lay in silence for a moment, until their thundering heart beats calmed to a low, pleasant pounding in their ears. He stretched, spine arching and he bit his lip to supress a tired groan at the pleasant stretch, before sitting forward until the sheet pooled low around his waist and his stomach muscles protested.

“No.” One lithe, pale arm slipped around his waist, fingers digging gently into his flesh as an annoyed grumble came from the lump of satisfied elf curled behind him. Fenris pushed his palm lightly into the forearm curled around his groin, and glared behind him half-heartedly. The other elf’s face was  half hidden, his cheek pressed flush to his back. He chuckled at the expression he saw there, as if he had removed a sweet cake from a child or a frilly cake from the Dread Wolf.

“Let me up.” Fenris grumbled. The hand clasped tighter around him, fingers digging in lightly now as he rose behind him, lips pressed to the lyrium lining the back of his neck and an insistent tongue flicked out to sweep greedily along the skin there.

“No.” Solas grumbled in his neck. Fenris breathed in sharply as the soft tongue sparked against his skin, the scent of magic permeating the air and a pleasant heat pulsed teasingly along his skin as his markings flared to life. The hand that was not wrapped tightly around his waist trailed up to his shoulder, tugging him back against the mage’s sweat dampened skin.

“It is too late to be doing this, mage.” Solas paused, lips trailing to nip at the skin of his neck.

“I agree.” His lips whispered upward, tickling gently along his jaw. Fenris forced a frown to his own lips, glaring at the grinning fool wrapped around him like a limpet.

“Then release me.” Solas paused, catching Fenris’ eye.

“Or move in here with me.” Fenris froze as his hand moved from his shoulder to clasp his jaw, forcing Fenris to look at him. Fenris’ swallowed nervously and eyed the elf warily as he continued.

“You know I cannot be here every night, you would have your privacy if that is what you wish… this room is one of the most heavily warded and guarded places within this fortress. You would be safer here, comfortable.” Fenris scowled, wrenching his jaw from the man’s grip and captured his wrist, clasping it a little too tightly.

“I do not require your so-called _guards_ to watch me day and night. I am not some defenceless child, regardless of how old you are or what you may think of me.” He lit the brands of his forearm where he clasped him, “I have been hunted my entire life and lived to be here. I do not require you to defend me.” He released Solas’ wrist, throwing it back at him, but he saw his expression softened.

“Ir Abelas… I may have… phrased that wrong.” He looked almost sheepish for a moment, but there was an unmistakable mischief in his eyes as he regarded Fenris. “I want you here. It _is_ safer, but that is simply.. an enjoyable _side benefit_.”

Fenris clenched his jaw at the laugh that threatened to bubble to the surface. He was trying to justify the offer to cover up the fact that while his safety was important to him, it was not the enjoyable side benefit he had in mind. Or the most enjoyable side benefit he had in mind.

“I… will consider it.” Solas blinked, as if he had not expected that from him, before that smug grin returned and he buried his face in his neck, pulling him back onto the bed. Fenris grumbled in protest, but let himself be manipulated until he lay tucked tightly into the man’s side.

“People will talk.” Fenris grumbled.

“They do little else, Vhenan.” p>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author update 26/9/17 --> this fic is not abandoned, just very busy with work ATM! I will get back to this as soon as I can, I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, been so busy last few weeks! Doesn't seem like my schedule will be lightening up any time soon, but I'm going to try schedule in some writing time because I really want to write this part! I've been really looking forward to writing it, so hope you like it. I'm trying not to rush into it, so slow progression for this chapter :P Enjoy! :D

“You should have told me.” Fenris tried to keep the hurt from seeping into the lines of his frown, as he stared at the other elf across the war table. His fists clenched where they rested upon the desk in front of him, and Solas shook his head.

“I know—” He began, but Fenris cut him off with a laugh, a sharp bitter sound even to his own ears.

“No, you didn’t. You still don’t, or you wouldn’t have done this _twice._ ” He hissed the last word through his teeth. Abelas stood beside him, arms tightly crossed and his brow furrowed. For a man with such a stoic face, that meant he was just as furious as Fenris.

“Do you not remember what happened the last time?” Abelas’ barked.

Solas winced, regarding him through his lashes as his fingers drummed on the table between them.

“I… yes. I should not have kept this from you this time… I… do not truly know why I did.” He looked sheepish for a moment, and Abelas let out an unamused snort as he turned to pace the room in agitation.

“You know perfectly well. You knew this was a disastrous course of action, Dread Wolf. This is not where your duty lies.” Fenris sighed, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead as the silence stretched.

“It is… a terrible plan.” Solas whispered, and Abelas cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “When have I ever tread the path that seemed wise, my friend?”

Abelas laughed and Fenris shook his head. He slammed his palms back down onto the table sharply as he growled.

“No. You do not get to _laugh_ this off, Mage.” He glared as him as his markings pulsed in agitation. “You do not get to bring me _here_ , of all places, and laugh that off. She will not abide my presence, nor will I bear hers.” Solas smiled sadly, sighing.

“Ir abelas, Da’fen… I know. I will keep you safe, they will not touch you.” He looked at him then, his eyes pleading with him.  “She is dying, Fenris. I can stop that, at least for a time. I need you with me.” Fenris closed his eyes, sighing deeply, shaking his head even as he knew he would not allow himself to be left behind again.

 

*  *  *  *

 

“I asked Abelas about her, you know.” Athim smiled at him as they walked, and Fenris frowned, eyes locked on the ground as they moved through the gardens. He didn’t reply, and the silence that was usually comfortable between them felt tense for a moment.

“He loved her.” She glanced at him, her voice low and calming. It was not a question, for they both knew he had. It was well known the inquisitor was precious to him. His lost love, the one he could never be with but would always wish to. The thought left a sour taste in Fenris’ mouth.

“I heard about…. you, as well.” Fenris winced, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. He did not… regret his actions, before Solas found him. That did not mean he was proud to speak of them.

“I am not a… good man, Athim.” She laughed, her lips pursing as she frowned.

“There is no such thing as a good man, Fenris. We are all selfish creatures, driven by instinct and desire. Love.” She glanced at him a moment. “What you did was neither wrong nor right, it simply was and cannot be undone. They only thing we can do about our actions is continue on, or atone for them.” Fenris glanced at her, and laughed.

“So says the paragon of virtue, or at least that is how your father’s men see you.” She giggled, a mischievous look on her face that vanished quickly.

“Never trust impressions.” She smiled, and they lapsed into silence again as they walked.

“It’s strange.” She blurted abruptly, and Fenris cocked an eye at her. “ _Two_ mates, in such as short space of time. It seems strange that he would wish to restore what was, when he has found so much in what _is,_ now.” Fenris cocked his head at her curiously.

“It is unusual he would take so many… ‘mates’?” Fenris had to admit, he was intrigued. Fenris knew little about the thousands of years the man had lived, save what minute details he had allowed him to glimpse in the fade. He had seemed more inclined to show him what was of the world before, not what was of _his_ world before. Athim nodded enthusiastically.

“To care was a dangerous thing for him, for most of his life.” She looked sad for a moment. “Though I think that was more of an excuse. He had a few… brief entanglements in this youth, before I was born of course, but in the millennia he has lived, he has only taken four true mates. To have two within a few years… is truly special. I am beginning to think this world might hold more than it lets on, Fenris.” She smiled sadly, but her eyes were warm as she looked at him. Fenris cast his eyes down again to avoid her inquisitive gaze, his cheeks heating as she giggled at him. She hooked her arm around his as they walked.

“I would not worry too much, Fenris. He would never betray you like that like, for her. Your time at Skyhold will be a smooth one, I’m sure.”

Fenris smiled slightly, just a slight curling of the lips as he felt a weight lift from him that he had not known was there. Perhaps it would be alright.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! 
> 
> I've been so busy, I think I may have bitten off more than I could chew in my life atm! Not a lot of time to do much more than eat and sleep between my commitments, but I don't want to let this series fall away. This isn't as long as I would have liked this chapter to be, but it's what I can do at the minute to lead up to the true storyline, which I will not skimp on.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it anyway! :D As usual, only proofread briefly so please forgive any spelling mistakes etc.

Fenris hissed through clenched teeth as his shoulder blades slammed into the cold stone wall behind him, flesh grinding hard against it as a mass of grey flesh crowded his vision. Hot breath huffed angrily out his nostrils, one massive hand encircling his throat and squeezing just too tight.

" _You."_ He snarled, and Fenris choked slightly as his airways closed painfully, gasping for whatever little air he could get. His arms raised instinctively, fingers wrapping desperately around the thick wrist only to gasp as air flooded his lung once again, burning a trail down his throat as the Qunari was torn from his grasp and thrown across the room. Fenris fell to his knees, hand grasping at his own throat as the wall opposite him shook as he was slammed bodily into it.

"Enough. Let him down, Solas." The words were clipped, anger barely contained, but the lilt to that voice was one Fenris knew well. Tevinter.

He looked up through moist eyes, throat still burning in protest as he swallowed thickly. Solas stared at him, concern well masked but Fenris knew him too well for that. He nodded minutely, and the other elf's face turned to regard the new arrival.

"Dorian." The Tevinter's teeth clenched, jaw flexing as he regarded him. He gestured to the Quanari, seething in rage as he struggled against the magical bindings that held him. "This is not the welcome you promised me, falon." The Tevinter's eyes softened slightly, loss softening the rage bubbling beneath.

"We did not know you would bring him." He sighed, finger playing thoughtfully with the immaculately kept moustache that sat upon his upper lip. "It was not a wise move, either, we thought you'd be smarted than that. He..." He glared at Fenris, "He killed Dalish, Solas. Almost took out Krem and Harding, too. It took them months to recover, and even now they aren't mission ready."

"I know." Solas nodded solemnly, sighing mournfully as he regarded Bull. Fenris cast his eyes down to where his fingers gripped the gritty floor and clenched his teeth. He did not regret what he did, but that did not mean he took pleasure in its aftermath.

He rose to his feet slowly, coughing as he blinked the moisture from his eyes and lights darted around his vision. Solas straightened, arms coming to clasp lightly behind his back.

"I have come as you asked, unarmed and with a small but necessary party, to assist the recovery of the inquisitor." He gestured stiffly to wall. "My party, all of my party, is not to be harmed in any way. My party is not to be spoken to by anyone, with the exception of the inner circle, unless it is necessary or permitted. In return, we will remain within whatever designated space you have provided for us without interference to the workings of the inquisition. Are those terms acceptable."

Dorian walked slowly over to the qunari, who growled as he approached.

"He cannot be here, Kadan. I can't..." The mage tutted at him, hand reaching up to gently stroke his jaw.

"You must, Amatus. Without them, you may well lose another dear friend." The qunari grunted, head slamming heavily back against the wall as he clenched his fists. A few moments of silence past, and Fenris felt out of place in the private moment until he nodded slowly. Solas clenched his fist, and the bindings snapped with an audible pop like the lash of a whip. The Bull landed roughly, unsteady feet swaying beneath him before he recovered. Dorian turned, gesturing dramatically to a room off the grand hall.

"Agreed. Come with me. You are to be housed in the rotunda. Not that I need to show you the way." Solas nodded.

"Then you will take me to the inquisitor."

 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

 

“Solas.” The voice was soft, and calm. Almost undetectable. It came from a lump of piled up Orlesian silk sheets on a large four poster bed, across the dark room from where they stood.

The place was sparsely lit, a few candles scattered around the dishevelled room barely enough to reveal the deeply shadowed face that peeped from below the pile of fabric. Solas brushed past him quickly, a sharp intake of breath almost inaudible. 

“Ir abelas, I should have come sooner.” She smiled at him, one pale hand slipping out to reach for his as he descended to his knees at her bedside. He took the offered hand, wrapping his fingers tightly with hers. 

Fenris could not force his eyes to leave where their skin touched.

>p>“No. That you came at all is enough, I… wanted to see you before I died, ma lath.” Solas eyes widened and he squeezed tightly, brushing his lips gently to the skin of her knuckles before straightening and released her hand, reluctance evident in every movement.

“You are not going to die today, Inquisitor. One day, but not today.” He turned her hand in his, so her palm bared upwards. Upon it lay the expected scars and splintering green light, pulsing erratically, but it was different now. A dark web spread from the centre of her palm where the anchor struck, leading down the veins of her arm. The dark colour almost seemed to throb within her veins. Solas trailed a finger along it delicately. 

“I am to remove the anchor, Vhenan.” The smile slipped from her face as she yanked back her palm, her face contorted in horror. 

“No. No, you will not have it. Not for that. I told him. I told Dorian he was only to get you to… say goodbye.” He shook his head, a sad frown on his face. 

“No. I do not need it for that purpose anymore.” He brought her palm back to him, gently uncurling her fingers one by one. 

“I promise this to you. I will not use the anchor for any purpose.” He locked eyes with her, forefinger and thumb of his other hand clasping her chin. “Unless the alternative is much worse for everyone.” 

She stared at him for a moment.

“I shouldn’t trust you… but I do.” Her eyes snapped to Fenris. “Even if you saved someone who tried to kill me. Who killed out friend, Solas.” 

“Love can make us careless, and rash, Vhenan. You chose to leave his love to die, and I know it is not what you wanted… but you and I can both understand his actions, even if we cannot condone them.” Fenris frowned as she stared at him, eyes an unreadable glint in the darkness. Fenris shifted awkwardly. They had never really spoken about the circumstances of his recruitment. It had not occurred to him that the man might have hated his actions too. 

“I will begin the process of removing the anchor now, before it can spread any further. This… will not painless, Inquisitor.” She nodded and Solas’ head turned to regard Fenris over his shoulder. “Return to Abelas, Fenris. I will not need you until later.”

Fenris swallowed hard, trying to determine the mix of emotions on his face but he turned away from him as magic began to tingle in the air as he probed experimentally at her flesh.

Fenris left, and Solas… did not so much as glance back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, we are back in action, just a small filler chapter to get me back into the swing of things... Bit rusty!

Fenris scrubbed the heel of his hand to his forehead and sighed. His fingers twitched in agitation, his eyes scrunched shut as his skin tingled and twitched. He felt greedy eyes slide over his flesh, eager to see the one who butchered so many within these very walls as they walked past.

 

Their small party had been lead to the rotunda in which they were to stay. Make shift cots had lined the rotunda walls for their small company, with a table in the centre baring food and water. They had sat and ate their meals in silence at a table in the grand hallway that bore the inquisitors throne, as the sun had begun to dip low in the sky the members seated at the table had dropped away like flies to retire for the night.

 

Fenris tapped his bared foot against the cooling stone and huffed out a breath through his nose. The sun was slipping below the horizon, a warm orange glow bathing the place, yet Solas still had not returned.

 

“ This is foolish, Falon. You should rest.” Abelas frowned at him from his place opposite him. “He does not need you yet. Whatever he required you for, you should be well rested for it.”

 

Fenris frowned. He did not think he could sleep, when he felt every eye crawling over his skin like insects. Every one of them knew who he was. Knew him as the one who slaughtered so many of their people. The enemy. They knew who Solas was as well, the traitor and the monster of dalish legend. They were not safe here, and so Fenris would not rest until he had returned unharmed.

 

“ I will wait.” Abelas scowled at him.

 

“ I cannot leave you alone here. You know I cannot.” Fenris sighed and growled, irritation sparking easily when his shoulders were weighed down with fatigue.

 

“ I am not defenceless, I can fight for myself….” Fenris mouth snapped shut as another, familiar voice cut through to him.

 

“ I'll look out for him.” Abelas' hand flew to the daggers sheathed at his sides, but Fenris shook his head.

 

“ Varric.” Fenris tilted his head, brows furrowed as he cast his eyes down to the table where his lined hands lay. Varric's eyes bored into him like knives, though his expression was trained to it's usual lop sided smile.

 

“ I'm… glad to see you're ok, Broody.” Abelas cocked an eyebrow at Fenris, concern flitting across his face. His hands lingered close to his daggers, watching for any sign of a trick.

 

“ Leave us, Abelas.” Abelas frowned, looking like he wished to protest. Fenris' raised his eyes to his. “Now.”

 

Abelas nodded reluctantly, and pulled a dagger from it's sheath before placing it on the table near has hand.

 

“ If you require me, simply yell.” With that he was gone. Fenris picked up the dagger, it's handle ornately carved and rans his fingers across the intricate lines gently.

 

“ I hope that isn't for me.” The dwarf slid himself up into the space the elf has vacated, joke unsteady and followed by an awkward chuckle.

 

Fenris smiled gently, eyes glued to the glinting of the blade, but remained silent. They sat for a moment, tension raw and uncomfortable in the air.

 

“ Broken. Palms slick, red, whispers you never wanted to here, whispers you thought long dead from the darkness that burned...” Fenris whipped his head round, fist clenching tight on the dagger's hilt has his fist snapped out on instinct. A pale palm clasped his wrist from thin air and pushed, the blade slipping past his body harmlessly as Fenris staggered. He snarled as the figure disappeared and the voice appeared behind him .

 

“  That was before. Before you saw what was, what is. Pain faded, the whisper changed and spoke of other things. Though the fear still floats….” Varric reached a hand quickly out to the side, grasping at the empty air that wasn't empty any more. A boy stood, oversized clothes and a ridiculously large hat hid most of his features as he stared down at where the dwarf clasped his wrist gently.

 

“ That's enough, Cole.” Fenris stared as the boys features, furrowed in confusion.

 

“ He hurt, but he doesn't anymore. Fear still clings, will always cling, but he is… better.” He looked up at him then, eyes bright and Fenris found he couldn't look away as fear crawled in his gut.  _ Demon. _

“ I'm not a demon…” He looked sad and wrung his hands, looking pleading to Varric. “I did it wrong. I made him scared.”

 

“ It's alright, Cole. Just… leave him, kid.” Varric released his wrist and smiled gently at the boy before he nodded slowly and smiled. Fenris blinked and he was gone. Fenris stared at the empty space where the boy had been, eyes wide and hands tight around the dagger still clasped almost painfully in his hands.

 

“ Ugh...” Varric sighed, and shrugged with a chuckled, “That was Cole. He's a good kid, just a little… much at first.” Fenris scowled, anger bubbling through his fear.

 

“ The inquisition keeps  _ demon _ pets now.” Varric shook his head at him.

 

“ No. Cole is not a demon, he's a spirit. A Spirit of Compassion…. Or he was anyway, he's more human now.” Varric sighed and laughed at the absurdity of his own explanation. “It's complicated...”

 

“ He had no right to be… digging around in my head.” Fenris growled.

 

“ I know, he knows, he just… sometimes he can't help it. He's drawn to hurt, and you…” Varric grimaced. “You're more hurt than most people, but… you're… better? Than you were?”

 

Fenris frowned, slowly lowering himself back onto the bench, eyes flickering around for any sign of the demon boy again as his mind flashed with images of his grief stricken self. He must have looked like a demon himself, slaughtering those people.

 

“ I… know my place again.” Varric smiled, but it was a sad one.

 

“ I'm happy you found your calling, Broody, but you picked the side that wants to destroy the world.” Varric raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“ Solas does not wish to destroy it. We...” Fenris paused, pondering for a moment. “He showed me what was. I have seen what was, through his eyes. I have seen when elves weren't shackled and beaten. He showed me why this world is poison. We won't take any pleasure in it. We will minimise the casualties where we can, but...”

 

Varric clenched his jaw then, anger flickering across his features before it was concealed. “It didn't take long for that to become a 'We', did it? I…” He sighed, “I thought you went to him to get out of there. I thought you just wanted to use him to try to get…  _ him _ back, or revenge or… something. I… wanted to get you back again, Fenris.”

 

Fenris closed his eyes, his throat tight with grief at the lose of a friend had not even lost yet. He raised his head, footsteps echoing down a set of stairs nearby.

 

“ You will always be… a good friend to me, Varric.” Varric nodded sadly.

 

“ Yeah… you too.” He chuckled. “I really hope you don't have to kill me one day.” They laughed as the footsteps drew closer. A young woman, human, appeared flustered and out of breath. Her eyes widened as she saw me.

 

“ The… Ugh… He has sent for you, now.” Fenris rose quickly, nodding. He released the dagger as he rose, and it fell with a small thud onto the table. Varric nodded to him and he smiled sadly back.

  
“ Take me to him.”  


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post the entire end to the series all at once, rather than chapter by chapter, but this ending is getting longer and longer the more I write :P So I am still going on this, but didn't want to make you all wait for something new. So, here is where the shit hits the fan! Enjoy!

It was darker now, cold dark stone now burnt with the orange of flickering torches and moonlight through the small thin windows cut into the stone wall. The flustered woman wrung her hands, glancing fearfully over her shoulder as she scurried quickly up the stairs to the inquisitor’s chambers with Fenris in toe. It was silent, eerily so. Fenris set his jaw as they reached the top of the staircase, and the woman pushed the door open with one shaking hand.

“Here, Sir… I… I will go. I will wait…” She stuttered, before fleeing down the stairs and leaving Fenris peering into the exposed room. He moved forward cautiously.

The room was dark, the curtains had been drawn so that the only source of light were the flickering of a few torches on the walls, and a candle on the inquisitor’s bedside. His eyes flickered to the lump on the bed as it emitted a whimper, her sweat slicked forehead gleamed in the light. She appeared to be unconscious, a belt of leather fallen to her side. He moved closer, until the marks of teeth became evident on it’s surface. Solas knelt beside her, head bowed and silent.

“Is she…?” Fenris approached slowly, brow furrowing as the sound of rapid shallow breath became evident as he got closer. Solas head rose and he cast a glance over his shoulder at him, the action slow as if his head weighed more than it should. Fenris snarled and lunged forward in time to catch the man fall as he attempted to rise. His brow was as sweat slicked as hers, and he panted freely now.

“What have you done, fool mage?” He snarled, concern coming out as anger but he wouldn’t correct himself. Solas leaned heavily on him as he straightened, hands shaking as one arm wrapped around his back and shoulder for support. The mage hummed, eyes half shut with fatigue.

“She… passed out. The pain…” He took a moment, breathing deeply. “It is not finished, in the morning I—” Fenris growled, hauling the man closer to his side.  
“No. This is too much, you—” Solas shook his head and shushed him gently, his free hand clasping Fenris’ side gently.

“Before, I…” They took tentative steps forward, “was going to remove the arm. Too much time passed, the corruption of the anchor spread too far. I must force it back…”

“You did not tell me this could do this to you! You could kill yourself over one woman!” Solas winced and glanced back at her, but his knees buckled and almost sent them both to the floor.

“I would do anything for her….” Fenris teeth clenched as his chest clenched painfully. “Just as I would for you.”

Fenris cast his gaze down and shook his head as his chest fluttered uncomfortably. He hauled the other elf up again, and swept his up, pulling him tight to his chest as he began to move. He looked down, and saw the elf could barely keep his head up. It nestled tightly into his chest, his eyes slipping closed. Anger slipped into his veins like poison then, and he scowled. How could one man be so idiotic, all the time?

He took the steps quickly but steadily, glad that the elf had shed most of his armour within the bedroom. As they reached the bottom, the woman’s eyes grew wide and she retreated before remembering herself.

“Water, food and elfroot.” She nodded hastily, and all but ran in the direction of the kitchens.

They slipped quickly through the hall, the remaining people staring unabashedly as Fenris strode past. Varric sat where Fenris had left him, conversing with a wary Abelas who had returned. Both stood quickly at the sight, eyes wide.

“Makers balls, what did you do Chuckles?” Solas eyes opened just a crack but Fenris strode past them. Abelas rushed to their side, concern and panic littering his usually well masked face.

“He did too much. Too quickly.” He snarled the words to Abelas as Solas stirred, his palms grasping at Fenris’ chest weakly. “Bring to us what the serving woman brings when she returns.” He strode through the rotunda quickly, glad most of the others were asleep already. Seeing their leader like this would only cause problems.  They strode into a small corridor off the main room, and Abelas pointed to a door.

“In there.” He opened the door and Fenris pushed on through, the door closing behind him. The room was small, a single bed pressed against the wall with a desk and chair at the end of it. The room had no other furnishings, save for a storage chest beside the door. Fenris leaned down, laying the mage onto the threadbare sheets as the door opened. Fenris glanced back, and Abelas nodded as he set a platter containing meat, bread and a jug of what Fenris assumed was water on top of the large chest. He pulled some flasks from a bag and set them there as well: an assortment of reds, blues and yellows.

“I will not be far.” Fenris nodded his thanks, teeth still clenched with fear or panic or anger, he couldn’t really tell anymore with the maelstrom of emotions swirling through him.  
Fenris moved to the chest, pouring water into the simply wooden cup alongside it. He pulled the stopper from each of the coloured flasks in turn with his teeth, pouring a small amount of each flasks contents into the water. He grasped the small bundle of finely ground elfroot that sat alongside the food, and returned to the bedside. He grasped under the mans arms, and pulled him into a sitting position, his back leaning heavily against the headboard.

“Chew this.” He pressed the herbs to the mans slips, and he took them without protest. His face twisted at the taste of the raw herb, as Fenris placed the cup to his lips.  
“Drink”. The mixture dribbled down his chin as he drank it, but after a moment his eyes opened a little wider. His breath had evened out somewhat, no longer panting like before.  
   
“I… Thank you.” Fenris peeled the man quickly out of his clothing, leaving him in only the soft cloth breeches he wore under his armour.

“Sleep. I will not be far, should you need anything.” Fenris rose to leave, but one too pale hand lazily clasped his hand.

“Stay.” Fenris scowled down at him.

“There is no room.” He protested, but the elf was pulling weakly down anyway. Fenris pulled free of the grasp but sighed, and pulled off his own armour. He rested it in a neat pile on the desk, and slipped his under-tunic over his head. His belongings were elsewhere, so he would have to sleep in his clothing. Fenris pulled the elf to the side, slipping the bedsheet from underneath him, and slipped into the bed. The sheets were cold and stiff, and Fenris frowned in confusion as he felt cold fingers slipping along his torso almost like a caress. The mage clambered onto Fenris’ chest, pushing closer until he hung like a cold limpet to Fenris’ flesh. His flesh tingled with magic and he squirmed slightly, resisting the urge to flinch at the cold of the other man’s flesh.

“Lyrium…”

Fenris pulled the man closer, arms clasping around him to increase the contact as the mage’s face pressed tightly into his neck.  His lyrium burned slightly where their flesh touched, and he squirmed at the pull he felt there. He signed as Solas breath evened out, slipping into an exhausted sleep within minutes.

Fenris’ fingers tightened slightly around the man’s back as he stared at him. For now, the man would sleep. Tomorrow, Fenris would put an end to this.

* * * * 

Fenris’ eyes fluttered open slowly to the sound of voices, and he flinched as the light pierced through his aching skull. His limbs felt heavy, and not just because there was a sleeping elf lying on them. His brow furrowed as his mind slowly began to wake up, and the voices became louder.

“Look, I know he’s your boss and I’m the enemy but he was my friend. I’ve waited long enough to see if he’s alright.” Fenris looked over towards the door just as it burst open, revealing a dwarf and a stern faced Abelas behind him, hand outstretched to stop his entrance. Too late.

“Chuckles—” He stopped, eyes flitting quickly between the two elves. Fenris looked down, realising too late the sight they presented. Fenris growled in frustration, one hand coming up to rub aggressively at his forehead. He opened his mouth the speak, but one pale hand pushed against his chest and the body that lay on him rose up.

“I am alive, Varric. I…” He smiled sadly for a moment. “Thank you, my friend. For your… concern. I did not know if I deserve it from you.” He shifted off him, eyes still dark with remaining fatigue but nowhere near as bad as he had been the previous night. He staggered on sleep deadened limbs, mixing up another of the potions in water and downing it one quick motion.

“I slept too long. Has she woken?” Varric sighed, and stared at him.

“No, she is still unconscious. Chuckles, you can’t keep draining yourself like you, she wouldn’t want—” He set the cup down firmly, turning to the dwarf with his jaw set tightly.

“She will die, If I do not. I know my limits, I will stop when I reach them.” Fenris snarled, throwing back the sheets.

“You do not know anything, mage. You will kill yourself over this”. He rose from the bed, a wave of dizziness washing over him before it settled again. Anger stirred in his gut, renewing with a vengeance now that he knew the man was alright. “You will not do this again. Find another way, I forbid it.” He snagged his tunic from the table and pulled it over his head, as Solas glared at him and mixed another of the diluted potions and handed it to him.

“She would have succumbed to the anchor long before we got to her, had we tried any other way. I will not stop, Da’fen. You cannot forbid me…” Fenris growled at the other elf’s irritated voice, downing the cup of bitter water and slamming it down. His fingers spasmed around it angrily. The man had no right to be angry at him.

“Fine. Die from your own foolishness.” He rose, and stormed out, pushing Abelas out of the way with his shoulder as he stormed out. Fenris didn’t know where he walked, he just did so aimlessly. He stormed through hallways, fists clenched tightly. His throat felt tight with anger and hurt.

Fenris was his lover, yet he had no say, no influence on the man. Not really. He had thought, just for a moment, that Solas would have at least considered his wishes. Searched for an alternative, while she still had time. He gritted his teeth and groaned, fists flexing at his sides as he stopped. He pushed his knuckles to his eyes, feeling light flash in his vision as he sighed heavily. At least, Solas could have showed some regret for his actions. He dropped his hands slowly, and cast his eyes down to his feet. He loved her, his inquisitor. Had it been Hawke, so many years ago, Fenris would have done the same. He has asked the impossible of him, and been hurt when Solas wouldn’t deliver it to him. He had demanded too much of him, he should go back…

Fenris grunted in pain as the ground rushed up to meet him. He fell to his knees, and cried out, his hand clenching ineffectively at the back of his leg. An arrow lay buried deep into the flesh and muscle beneath, and he groaned as his movement jostled the metal tip against the bone.

“Well well, if it isn’t the wolf’s bitch again.” He raised his head and snarled, as the face behind the bow emerged from behind him. He recognised her face and mouthful of dirty, rotted teeth. The woman guard who had assaulted him outside Solas’ rooms.

“You got me put out. You lost me a lot of coin, bitch.” He flared his markings as she approached.

“Come closer, and I will show you your still beating heart.” His teeth clenched as he grasped the arrow, tugging slightly. Agony burned through the abused flesh, and he hissed through clenched teeth. It was too deep, it would have to be cut out or pushed through the other side.

“Is that so?” She grinned as she took a few steps forward and leaned down, leering at him.

“These other maniac elves don’t pay as well, but at least they get me you. You should have watched your back, dog.” She cackled, as pain bloomed on the back of Fenris head and nothing, but darkness followed.


	7. Chapter 7

“I should go after him.” Abelas stepped towards the door, head tilted to one side. Solas sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and growled half-heartedly in frustration. His chest clenched uncomfortably. He wanted to go himself, but time was not their friend here.

“No… he is well aware he isn’t safe here. He won’t go far.” Though he should not leave him along for long, regardless. Solas winced at the dull ache in his muscles, nothing compared to the bone deep fatigue he had felt the night before. “Give him some time. Fetch him within the hour… I have yet to fully recover, but I cannot stop now. I will need him.”

Abelas raised one eyebrow at him, but nodded and straightened, his arms reaching to clench behind his back and he eyes tipped down to the ground. A submissive stance he had yet to forget, and it made a thin sliver of anger run through him. It always did, seeing remnants of a past in chains. He wanted more than that for Abelas, for his friend.  
“I will speak to him tonight… I… understand. However, it is my duty to save her.” He frowned, closing his eyes for a moment. “I owe her that at least.” Abelas stared at him, disapproval evident in his features, but he nodded briskly. 

“If you must. I have business to attend to.” He turned then, stepping briskly from the room, leaving a disheartened Solas in his wake. Solas dragged his nails lightly over his scalp and groaned when the room was left silent, allowing himself but a moment of self-loathing. He did not have more time for such… luxuries. 

He rose, fetching an intricate elven weave tunic from the chest. Abelas must have placed it there sometime during the night he assumed, as he ran the soft silken material lightly through his fingers. Energy radiated from it’s surface, almost undetectable, but a powerful enchantment nonetheless. He glanced to the table, Fenris’ armour lay there still. Including the shirt he had shed the night before. He allowed himself a small chuckle, imagining the ball of naked fury that he was, rampaging through skyhold and he smiled at the image. The smile quickly soured, as he remembered the broken sight of his inquisitor upon the bed, her face contorted in pain. 

He pulled the tunic on over the leggings that he still wore. He would have preferred to wash and change, dried sweat making for an uncomfortable feeling, but there would be no point once he began again. He would not admit it to anyone, but had his body not instinctively began to pull upon Fenris’ lyrium, he may not have survived the night. He winced at the thought. Using his lyrium was the initial reason Solas had brought him into this, and it had been necessary, yet now using him felt… wrong. The last thing in this world he wanted, was to use him like he had been used before. He grit his teeth at the memories he had glimpsed in the fade. If the man had not already been dead, Solas would have presented the man to his love on a silver platter.

He took a breath, and shook his head. Now was not the time to think of such things. 

* * *  
Fenris moaned as his vision spun, all dark blurs and flashes. Pain ripped through his head as he was dragged back slowly to consciousness. More hot white pain searing through his head, as a sound split through his skull. Slowly, the sound made sense. Screams. 

“It’s coming around, Grett.” A voice sounded, a low grumble. Fenris almost missed it, distracted by how his head felt like it was going to explode.

“Go get the boss.” The woman, Grett’s, voice was familiar. Fenris forced his head up, neck stiff and weak, and snarled as his memory returned to him. He tried to move, lyrium flaring on instinct, but found his numb arms were shackled above him. He became aware of his shoulders slowly, which burned in a flare of agony as the abused muscle flexed as he swung, his weak legs trailing uselessly below him in the dirt.

“Now, now, pretty boy.” Her hand clasped his chin, yanking it forward as her face came closer to his, rank breath causing him to gag. Her nails dug into his flesh painfully, and she smiled. 

“No use trying. Mages made these chains, elf. None of your fancy shit’s gettin’ you out.” She cackled and thrust one fist square into his rib cage and he coughed violently as the pain seared through him. He swung pitifully, as spots clouded his vision once more. 

“That’s enough.” Another woman’s voice sounded from somewhere behind her, but Fenris found his eyes unable to focus. The woman grumbled, but leaned in once more with a smirk.

“You shouldn’t have fucked with me.” Then she turned, retreating but not leaving the room. Fenris coughed and snarled. She wanted to watch. The new woman approached him, dark hair and a fair face, a strange look in her eyes as she regarded him. She trailed one finger down the lyrium on his chest, her finger searing with magic. He hissed, eyes watering as he instinctively squirmed away from her. Her eyes flickered up to his own and she frowned at him before removing the finger as quickly as it had arrived. He snarled at her, eyes wild and teeth snapping. A mage.

“Drawing on it causes you pain.” She looked at him, as if expecting him to answer. He glared, and spat onto the dusty ground below. He panted, eyes never leaving hers, as he waited. She paused, a moment more, but seemed to take her answer from his silence. 

“That was unexpected.” She paused, grabbing a rag on a table nearby and dipping it into a bucket of water. She returned, and wiped the cool water over the back of his head and neck. He hissed as dried blood flaked from the wound on the back of his head, and he felt fresh blood begin to seep from it. He snapped at her arm with his teeth, but the tingle of magic in the air told him she had cast. A misdirection spell, if his inability to get near her was any indication. Healing magic washed over his skin there, just for a moment, and he couldn’t help but pant in relief. 

“The way we must manipulate the lyrium within your skin is complex. We had hoped, with your abilities and our reports that you can be drawn from, that your experience would be no different than that which you know already.” She dropped the rag back into the bucket, and turned to him, her face grim.

“We must go forward, regardless. Simply know that no joy will be taken from your pain… but it is unavoidable. We will make it as quick as possible.” He shifted, head swimming a little bit less now, and he pulled his feet beneath him. He panted with the effort, clenching his teeth against the nausea that followed, but she waited patiently. 

“What do you… intend to do with me.” He panted, the words difficult to collect in his mouth and even more difficult to utter. 

“You are necessary to free our masters. We will tear down the veil, without the destruction of the Gods.” She stepped back, hands clasped behind her back.

“We want the same thing that you do. We want our people restored, we want our kingdom to be rebuilt and magic to be the birth right to us all. We want it restored, as it was. With our Gods at it’s head, and the trickster brought to heel.” She looked at him pleadingly.

“Can you not see it? He tricks you, even now. He will use you and all his followers to bring back our past, but your efforts will only put him in power. The Dread Wolf will have sole rule over the entire world, because he tricked you into thinking he wants it for you.” 

Fenris paused, then snarled, his chest rumbling with rage. He laughed darkly. 

“You think that he tricks us? When it is your Gods who would put you all in chains. The Dread Wolf wants the past returned, the shackles broken. He wants all of us to be free.” He surged forward, fear and anger raging within him, straining against the shackles. 

“Your God’s lie to you. They will take their thrones and revel in your suffering. The Dread Wolf… is a better man than all your God’s combined.” She stared at him, disappointment on her face. 

“So be it….” She turned, and walked slowly across the room to the heavy door set in stone. 

“Remember this. You chose those chains.” 

Grett smiled across the room smiled, and cackled as she approached with malice and cruelty in her eyes, and that moment… he felt afraid.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I forgot trigger warning for torture here!

Solas bowed his head, willing is wavering vision to stare at the stone floor beneath him. He panted, clutching uselessly in the bedsheets he knelt beside in an attempt to control his breathing. He felt no pain yet, simply a heaviness of the limbs and a darkening of the vision, whispering a promise of aching muscles in the night to come. He forced his head up just so, forcing himself to take in the vision of his old love before him.  _ Your fault. _

Her placid face lay nestled in the blankets, matted blonde hair as slick with sweat as the rest of her. A thin white nightgown stuck to her sweat-damp flesh, hugging her unhealthily slim figure. The leather belt was clenched between her teeth and her eyes shined wetly in the low candle light. It was not yet night, but the lowering sun cast long shadows in the room and the birds no longer sang, leaving eerie silence. Her eyes watched him, unfocused, eyelids almost fully closed as she breathed shallow, rapid breaths so quiet he almost couldn't hear them. He stared, sorrow slithering through him with every second their gaze lingered on each other.

"Fen'harel." The door behind him burst open, and the voice spoke of urgency, but it could wait a moment. He swallowed, his throat uncomfortably dry as he swept his gaze over the now blood-stained sheets. He would not leave her bleeding and in pain. He waved one hand over the ragged mess of the inquisitor's hand, laying limply on the bed, and the blood flow slowed to a slow ooze.

"Fen'harel." The tone was more urgent. Abelas hurried forward, his jaw clenched tightly, and his mouth pursed into a tight-lipped frown as he grabbed onto Solas' arm just as he began to pour a light healing magic into the arm to numb her pain.

"He cannot be found." Solas froze, eyes snapping to his. _Fenris._

Abelas nodded grimly, tugging gently on the arm. Abelas had never deigned anything important enough to touch him before, the last remnants of his servitude subconsciously breaking through to make the man avoid all touch.

"How long?" Solas allowed himself to be tugged away from the bed, but cast a quick glance back and stopped before the door. Solas didn't like to admit it, but he was unsure how long had passed since he had entered this room. The process was an intricate one, the gentle weaving of magic through flesh without destroying it. It took practice and a great deal of concentration. He had no idea how long Fenris had been missing, and that thought lay like a stone in his gut. Abelas straightened, hand dropping from his arm as if he had been burned when he noticed his own actions, but he did not apologise. _Good._

"I searched after only an hour, but found nothing. The dwarf and the Tevinter mage insisted on searching on their own." His frown deepened, and he shifted from one foot to the other in agitation. His teeth grinding in almost imperceptible anger. "They found blood."

Solas shook his head, fists clenching as he began to pace.

"His?" The word was clipped, adrenaline beginning to pump through his tired veins as a panicked rage slithered through him. Abelas nodded slowly.

"There is no way to be certain, but it stank of lyrium. I believe so." Solas ran his palm hard down his face and snarled into the flesh of his palm. He nodded once to the other elf, but turned his head towards the pale figure on the bed. He approached her slowly, crouching down slowly beside her. He raised his palm to her face gently cupping her cheek. He slowly allowed his magic to lick though the skin, the wave passing through her to numb the pain. She sighed quietly in relief, pressing into the touch like a wounded kitten.

"Ir Abelas, Vhenan." He leaned forward to kiss her temple gently. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"Go, ma lath. I will live. I can wait another day." He frowned, chest tightening at the weakness in her voice. He pulled away from her reluctantly and rose up.

"I will return, Inquisitor." He let his mask fall into place, his tone calm and neutral. He should not have let himself do that. He needed to be her enemy, needed her to forget about him. His chest clenched painfully at the though as he turned to Abelas.

"Show me."

\-------------------------------------

"I know so much about you, Fenris." The mage slowly moved around him, with the predatory grace of a hunter. He could feel the magic simmering under her skin as she walked, deadly but contained. He coughed, spluttering as the taste of iron from his nose tickled the back of his throat, moaning pitifully as the movement caused the intense ache along the lines of his lyrium to pulse angrily.

"Would you like to know something about me?" She steps aside, only to appear moments later with the sound of wood dragging behind her. She set the chair down, oddly gently, and sat on it with her legs neatly crossed. Her slim fingers clasped over her knee, which would have been a polite way to sit had her fingers not been covered in Fenris' own blood.

"My name is Mahairel." She leaned back and observed him sadly, her eyes following the soft ooze of blood that seeped from the outer lines of his lyrium where she had pud and tweaked at it. Her magic had slipped through it, around it, underneath it. Poking and prodding, pulling and twisting at the substance in his flesh in a slow burning agony that had him screaming until his throat grew hoarse. Now, he hung limp from the shackles that held his arms painfully above him, throat as raw as an open wound. Speech was not something he would even entertain the thought of, but that did not seem to trouble the woman.

"This does not have to be like this." She learned forward, head tilted innocently.

"If you chose to help us, instead." this would go a lot faster. We could provide you with something to dull the pain. We could take the time to find a way to make this. more pleasant for you. Less... damaging."

He tried to snarl at her, bloodied teeth bared, but the motion sent what felt like razor blades sliding down his throat and the sound turned into a high pitched moan. She sighed and rose from the seat, walking slowly towards him again.

"A pity." She placed her hand on his chest lightly, but her magic was anything but light.

It twisted deep into his chest and sent his heart pumping like a frightened hare. It felt as though his ribs were being pried apart, and the wrenching sensation sent waves of white hot pain snaking through him from his head to the very tips of his toes to dragged uselessly along the ground. The room was bathed in blue light as his lyrium was forced to life. His head fell forward, body twisting and convulsing in his chains, his back arching unnaturally. His bones creaked, fingers clenching on the thick chain above him so hard the snapping of small bones rang through the air. His head fell limp beside him as the next wave came, and he opened his mouth to scream but found that he could not achieve even that. He whimpered pitifully, eyes clenched shut, clutching at the memory of soft lips and unhurried pleasure as a distraction but even that was washed away. He shuddered as another spasm wracked through him. He could not even think of home.

\------------------------

"It isn't _enough!"_ Solas snarled the final word, teeth clenched and fist clenched tightly. His nails dug painfully into the palm of his hand, blood seeping from the small wounds but the pain was welcome. Grounding. They weren't doing enough, weren't covering enough ground. Fenris had been taken in broad daylight, right under the nose of the inquisition and it _wasn't good enough._

His men winced visibly under his anger as he breathed hard through his nose. Abelas stood at his side, pacing quietly but the anger radiating from him was obvious. The air of panic between them was obvious, but he could not allow himself to appear as such. Anyone else needed to see determination, not the flustered mess he felt swirling in his chest. His eyes snapped as one elven man entered the room, one of his scouts.

"Where is the spymaster?" He growled at the man, who came to a stop before him, a scroll clutched between his fingers.

"She gathers information, she will arrive soon. She sent this, however." He handed the scroll to him.

Solas nodded quickly, unravelling the scroll. If anyone could gather any useful information within the inquisition, it was Leliana. He had been gone too long, and the blood...

"Have you found anything else?"

Solas looked up from the parchment, a list of known escape routes from the point they had found the blood and the guard routes for that morning. Varric stood beside Dorian looking at him questioningly, the dwarf looking more flustered than Solas had even seen him. With the exception of the news after they had returned from the battle in the fade.

"Have you?" His words were sharp, more cutting than he had meant them to be. He waved to his men, ushering them to leave. They did so gratefully, if the speed with which they fled his presence was any indication.

"No. Sparkler here used every magic trick in the book, there was no trail." Varric shook his head, mouth opens as if clutching for words. "Nobody saw anything. Nobody heard anything."

Solas looked to Dorian slowly. The mage looked at him with sincere pity, and Solas had no doubt his assistance was genuine. His lover, however.

"Seems strange, Dorian. Swiped from the very midst of the inquisition stronghold, right under the spymaster's nose." He prowled forward. "Should I find that someone in the inquisition did this, they will be held accountable." Dorian's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. His fingers rose to twirl the end of his moustache idly.

"I give you my word as a Pavus, Solas. I know nothing of what has happened, or I would give you that information myself." Solas allowed himself a moment longer to stare, but nodded slowly. He sighed, grabbing and knocking back a rejuvenation potion quickly. He winced at the bitter taste, but the ache in his muscles lessened somewhat.

" _Fen'harel."_ The Orlesian lilt sang out clearly, distaste dripping from every word. He turned to smile, allowing just a touch of smug satisfaction seep into the expression. She was still bitter that he had kept himself hidden from her all those years.

"Leliana. I wish I could catch up, but I am afraid it will have to wait." She prowled over to where he stood, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Indeed. I have what you need." She took a roll out from where it had been tucked under her cloak, and rolled it out on the table in front of him.

"We must not delay. I have found where they have taken him, or where he is most likely to be at least." She pointed to the map.

"We have inquisition camps here, here and here." She trailed her finger from each point. "Our mages at each camp have reported disturbances. Extreme surges of magical energy, enough that we believe this Fenris to be somewhere within this region." She circled a small area on the map, only a few hours ride from skyhold. It was a lot of ground to cover, with such an imprecise target, but it was better than the nothing he had before. He nodded gravely, turning to Abelas.

"Gather yourself and a small group, we leave as soon as possible." Varric made a noise of agreement.

"Don't think you're leaving me out of this one, Chuckles. He's my friend, and Bianca and I have something to say to the people that took him." He smirked, light slipping back into his eyes.

Solas smiled slowly, the panic in his chest easing a little.

For the first time in a while, he didn't feel alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a bit of torture and panic attack.
> 
> I have the final chapter written, but these little in between scenes keep coming to me and making it longer! This should have been finished chapters ago! :P

Solas growled in frustration as his hart stumbled over a tree root hidden beneath the snow, but stroked the great beasts long neck to comfort him as the intelligent beast whined in response.

“Hush, that was not for you, my friend.” He reigned in his anger slowly, and the beast snorted softly, accepting his apology before continuing. They had taken too long to find a sign of a camp or soldiers, but after searching into the night they had finally found a trail. Solas had snapped and barked orders to continue their search, but Abelas had talked sense into him. He knew he had been right, stumbling around in the dark wouldn’t have helped them.

“Here.” Solas shouted to the others, as the horse trails which they followed through the snow veered off sharply to the right.

His hands tightened and loosened rhythmically on the reins in front of him as nervous energy shivered through him. Whether that was from his lingering panic, or from the many stamina potions that kept him upright he did not know. He had tried to find Fenris in the fade as he slept a few fitful hours the night before, but what he had found was… worrying.

He had found his essence in the fade easily enough, but it was formless and dark. Untouchable, and stank of fear. He had chased off a number of demons drawn the location, and as much as Solas tried he could not force the rest of Fenris’ consciousness into the fade. His eyes had felt like sand paper when he woke, the fatigue heavy in his bones but they are rose at the first sign of light to start again.

The trudged on until the snow melted away into a light sludge as grass became more dominant on the terrain. The path would be harder to pick up here… but Solas head snapped up from where it had stared, scanning across the ground as a shiver pulsed across his skin. He straightened in his saddle, eyes catching Abelas’ as he approached on his own mount. The shiver slipped across his skin again, like a thin touch of ice on warm skin. Almost imperceptible, but Solas’ magic was far too in tune with his surroundings for him to miss it.

“You feel that?” Abelas nodded grimly, tilting his head like a curious animal as another wave made their skin twitch.

“What’s up, chuckles? You found something?” Varric shouted from somewhere behind them and he turned his head briefly. He caught Abelas’ eyes and nodded.

“We are getting closer. Follow.” Abelas nudged his own, smaller heart into a faster pace with a brief tightening of his legs. Solas followed, face set in a grim frown.

That power he knew well, but it felt erratic like the beat of a frantic heart. It felt wrong, and he was going to make every single one of them pay for this… but at least it was a sign he still lived. For now.   
\---------------------------------------

Solas!

Fenris yelled, relief slipping through him like a tidal wave as he ran forward but the man never tried to turn towards him. The form was… unclear, but it was him.  
Fenris panted as he ran forward, but each step felt like a weight pushed into his chest. He forced himself forward, as far as he could stand the pressure, Solas’ voice sounded muffled and weak. As if Fenris were hearing him through water.

Solas spoke, lips moving softly but Fenris could not hear him. He snarled, helplessness tightening his chest further. He clenched his teeth and let out a choked whine, forcing another step towards him. He screamed for him again, but it did not take long for Fenris to feel weak and drained. Useless. He was forced to take a step back, as the pressure became too much for him to bare, almost forcing him to his knees.

I’m… here.

He almost choked out the words, as he watched the mage snarl and banish what looked like a demon of fear from the place. Solas still could not hear him. He watched as the other elf snarled and paced, magic glowing lightly from upturned palms. The pressure in his chest eased slightly, sounds becoming cleared. He heard the man snarl, rage evident. He threw his hands down in frustration and Fenris clenched his fists tightly to stop himself from reaching out once more. Fenris panted weakly as he took in the mage’s face, he hung his head and held them in his hands. When he looked up again, his eyes were glistening as if wet, but his face was set in grim determination. He stared off in the wrong direction, past were Fenris stood.

“Vhenan… coming…” He spoke softly, so softly Fenris had to strain to hear it.

“Find you…. love…” Fenris stared, silent as he heard the admission.

He watched until the man had long since gone, with his jaw set in determination. He would survive this, somehow, because Solas had called him love… and he was coming for him.


	10. Chapter 10

“We are ready, lethallan.” She bit her lip in sadistic pleasure as she looked upon his beaten form, and leaned back slightly.

“Then let us begin.” She murmured, and sliced… but a hand quickly descended upon Grett’s wrist, halting the slide of cold metal upon his flesh. Fenris hissed quickly as a shallow wound opened on his throat, a thin wet trickle sliding down onto his bared chest. 

“Not here.” Mahairel frowned down at him sadly for a moment, before pulling the ornate knife gently back and jerking her head in the direction of the door. 

“The courtyard.” Grett growled her disapproval through clenched foul teeth, but sheathed the knife at her side. She grinned at him sadistically then, and grabbed him with each hand around his shackled wrists. 

The shackles released with a heavy sound of snapping metal, but he did not have the strength to keep up. He slumped heavily on numb knees, held up only by her tight grip. He grunted as his body protested the new position, arms searing with the pain of injured muscle, head hanging down limply before her. 

He squinted as the blood trailed from a reopened wound into his eyes. Thin, ice cold fingers clasped his chin gently. He stared at the elven mage through slitted eyes as she pulled his gaze up to meet hers, mustering as much of a glare as he could manage. His body could barely muster the simple twitch of muscles required for even that, as he slumped heavily in Grett’s grasp. 

“We didn’t have any more time, I couldn’t make it easier…” She released his chin, which fell limply once again. “I am sorry… for what is to come.” 

Fenris cried out as his arms jerked forward, muscles screaming in agony as his knees dragged painfully behind the burly woman that held him. He heard the heavy door open as he watched his legs left a bloodied trail across the dirt below him. He closed his eyes, teeth clenching at the wave of anguish flooded over him. 

Solas would not find him.  
It was too late. 

\-----------------------------

“Whoa, Chuckles!?” Solas barely registered the dwarf’s shouted words, as his hart reared suddenly, startled by the magic suddenly flaring under it’s masters skin. 

Abelas turned his own hart abruptly, dismounting quickly to calm the frantic beast, but Solas’ eyes were wild, anguish evident on his face. His breath came in rapid short burst, his chest constricting rapidly. Breath becoming impossible by the second.

“Fen’harel.” Abelas pulled the man from his saddle, grasping his shoulders tightly. Solas fingers curled into the hard metal of his armor, the cold bite grounding him but he simply stared through him. Abelas’ expression was tight, his own fear evident but well-guarded. He placed on hand behind Solas’ head, forcing Solas eyes onto his own. 

“Solas.” Solas blinked slowly. He had never called him by his true name before. Forcing his breath to slow somewhat, his thoughts still flittered like a running beast. 

“It’s gone.” The words came out a choked whisper. He could feel his own pulse throb in his throat. The whisper of power they had been following had become stronger as they followed it’s path, migrating from a whisper to a caress across the skin to something more. Solas had felt the first signs of hope fluttering in his chest, not long before it was gone.  
He was gone. 

“That does not mean he is gone.” Abelas’ head was downturned, the full gaze of his stare impaling him. Forcing attention. He would make a good leader, one day. 

“The lyrium is no longer activated. That does not mean he is gone.” Solas blinked, swallowing thickly as he shook his head. He pulled from the man’s grasp, backing up a few steps. He had allowed his mask to slip completely. Slipped into blind panic at a simply notion that his heart was gone, did not even think before falling into that dark pit.

Solas stared at the wet, cold hardened grass beneath his feet and breathed for long moments. He breathed deeply, the spiraling anguish inside him slowly turning numb and cold. Abelas nodded back to him curtly when he was sure, swiftly mounting his abandoned beast as Solas followed suit stiffly.

“Move on.” Solas kept his gaze to the ground, fists clenching as he probed uselessly with his own power for any trace of Fenris’ that might be left behind. Nothing. He could feel gazes upon his back, the air felt heavy. 

His own people knew of their relationship of course, but he doubted many thought it more than a matter of convenience. He stiffened as hooves crunched towards him on the hard ground, and someone awkwardly cleared their throat. Solas sat up stiffly in his saddle, slipping his mask into place. Cracked as it was.

“We are not retrieving the elf for his usefulness to your cause are we, Solas?” Dorian spoke softly, voice low as though not to be overheard. 

“No.” Solas answered curtly, nails biting into his palms as he clenched the reins. 

“Then…” Dorian shuffled in his saddle, eyes intent on the elf’s back. “Know that I am here as your friend. Not as the inquisition.” 

Dorian chuckled then, and Solas turned to look at him with surprise evident on his features. 

“Love takes us to the strangest places.” 

Solas smiled slowly.

“Yes. It does.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for feels/torture/death/violence/major cliff hanger, this shit got even darker, real quick o.0 
> 
> Sorry not sorry

Solas hissed quietly as the power racked across his skin, just on the brink of painful. It has started but a few moments ago, but it felt more wrong now than it ever did before. It made him wish he had not wanted it back.

Abelas looked behind him from where he crouched low in the front of him, his face stern as he felt the same unease.

“We must hurry.” They crept forward once again, footsteps as light as they could make them.

The cave was dark, but they dared not light the way with more than a faintly glowing palm in front of them. The cave-like tunnel walls were damp, glistening as the faint light caught the rough planes of it’s surface. The power grew as they crept forward, like fingernails dragging too hard against the skin. It left his flesh feeling raw and open, but there was no sign of even a light redness to the skin.

The long tunnel has no side passageways, but got smaller as they progressed. The walls closing in on them. It was quiet. Too quiet. They had yet to encounter any form of resistance, and that alone put them on age.

“This is futile. This goes nowhere…” One of the archers behind him muttered, and Solas clenched his fists as the quiet, simmering rage below his skin tingled. The boy did nothing to deserve that rage, but Solas’ chest was too tight and all he wanted was to put his fist through the nearest wall. The tunnel began to brighten as they continued, but they could not yet see it’s end.

“That lyrium of his better be worth it.” He muttered, and Solas felt his control snap. He turned abruptly to the man, seizing him by the shirt as he yanked him close. Teeth clenched into a snarl. He opened his mouth to growl at the man, his free fist flickering with wild magic.

“You insolent—” but that was all he got out. Before the screaming started. Solas’ head snapped back to the direction they had been heading, and he dropped the startled archer as if he had been burned. Blood curdling screams rang in the distance, like a live animal being torn to shreds with no hope of escape. He ran.

Footsteps thundered behind him, all thought of stealth gone. The tunnel spilled out onto an open ledge, a set of steps curling down along the wall to the floor of the large circular room. The place had obviously once been a domed structure, but time had crumbled the place so all that remained were crumbling walls and the open sky above. Veins curled around almost every surface, only slivers of crumbling ornate carvings peaked through to see the light. The carvings along the floor were cracked and some parts crushed to dust, save for the centre. Fresh new carvings were cut over the old. Filled with blood.

“No….” Bodies were scattered around the central carvings, their throats slit and eyes lifeless. Their blood flowed into the new runes carved into the ground, the scarlet liquid bubbling as if boiling. As they watched, tendril like limbs pulled forward from the blood, slipping their way across the ground to curl up around the spasming feet of the bloodied form tied to a pillar in the centre.

“Fenris.” Abelas horrified whisper hit Solas like a bolt of electricity.

“Vhenan!” He screamed, as Fenris’ form spasmed and writhed, mouth open in now silent screams. Shallow cuts trailed along his throat and chest, his head thrown back hard against the pillar behind him. A woman stood, palms glowing a dark red colour as she dragged the blade down the arm that had yet to be marked. The sickening, tainted power pulsed with ever slice into his skin.

“The Harellan’mi. How did they get it?” He heard Abelas snarl, as he rushed forward. He took the crumbling steps as fast as he could. The decent was long, too long. Solas heart seized in his chest, not caring as the air burned in his throat with every step. The power seared against his skin with each release. He snarled as shouts came from the floor below and the sound of arrows flying sounded around him. An arrow sank into his shoulder as he ran. He stumbled, but yanked the shaft from his flesh with a growl, not caring as the head tore flesh from him.

He fade stepped, raw energy searing across the open wound, but the sky above shuddered and rippled. A green taint slipping into the sky, spreading like the tendrils that wrapped around Fenris’ body.

He growled, enclosing his body in rock as he wrenched his staff from his back. His feet stung as they landed heavily on the ground floor. He let out a rabid sound as men enclosed him, steel ringing against the rock as they descended upon him. He slashed the bladed end of his staff, parting flesh in a sea of blood. He spared barely a glance up to the platform high above where his own men stood, loosing arrows down on them as others ran to join the fray below. He fade stepped forward once again, past the crowd of bodies. Close enough to see the muscle protruding from Fenris’ body as he spasmed, body twisting unnaturally around the wooded pillar he was tied to.

“You are too late, Dread Wolf.” The woman glanced over her shoulder at him, the final flick of her wrist completing the pattern along the limp hand within her grasp. He snarled at her, teeth bared like the wolf that was his namesake.

“Look around you. The tear has been created, you are too late. Do you not feel it?” She smiled, and Solas wanted to rip it from her, but he did feel it.  
He felt the magic slither along his skin, slipping into the very air itself. It was almost complete.

“You know how this works, Dread Wolf.” He voice echoed throughout the room, and a small grim frown graced her lips.

“The process has started. Should he die, the process stops.” The woman backed away from him, gesturing the weakly seizing form of Fenris. The tendrils of sacrificed blood had wrapped around him now, the blood slipping along the lines of lyrium on his body like the flow of a river, slithering around his body like serpents. The woman dropped the dagger to her feet, and turned to walk away.

“We know all about him, Fen’harel. Who he is, who is was. Who he is to you.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, seeming uncaring to the clash of blades around them. “Choose. Kill him, or we have won.”

Solas cried out, fade stepping towards her. He plunged the blade through the flesh of her back, pulling her body towards his as the blade sliced and crunched through flesh and bone. He panted, breath coming quickly as he pushed her body away. She crumbled to the ground, but he did not spare her even a glance.

“Solas!” Abelas voice broke through the din of battle. As Solas stepped towards the pillar, he could barely hear him. His eyes focused on the twitching body before him. He could not lose him. He had lost too much. His home, his people, his world. He had let the inquisitor go, told himself not to allow himself to love again. He could not lose this too.

“I can’t.” His voice was choked and raw, and only then did he realise his cheeks were wet.

“Fen’harel.” Abelas looked up, to the cracking thunder in the sky. “It is almost done.”

Abelas’ face was stern, but that mask was crumbling as he stared at the bloody mess that was left of his friend before them.

“I. Can’t.” He did not even know if Fenris would live, if the process completed. Yet he would not, could not, make the choice. The gurgles of the dying behind them meant nothing to Solas, not when the pitiful whimpers escaped his Vhenan’s lips still.

“Ma lath.” He stepped forward, trailing his finger against those cracked and bloodied lips, not caring for the bite of the lashing power that seared along his skin at the touch. He leaned forward, resting against his forehead against his. Fenris’ eyes stared out, unseeing, and that gaze caused a pain in his very core.

“You can’t let this finish, Fen’harel!” A voice from his men behind him sounded. Abelas’ arm came to rest of his shoulder, tugging him gently.

“Your orders, falon.” He pulled away, locking his wet gaze with Abelas’. He closed his eyes, as if to will the choice away. He has given everything for this. His mistakes, everything was his fault.

“No.” He whispered it, and Abelas nodded. He turned, the last of their men pulling their swords from the fanatics who had not had the sense to flee.

“Get the healers! Search the place. Kill anyone you find that is not ours. We move out when the process has completed.” He stepped away. He may not live, but Solas had made his choice.

“What? You’re just going to let this happen!?” The archer from the tunnel cried out. Solas did not turn, simply kept his eyes on his heart.

“Do as you are commanded, soldier.” Abelas growled the warning but the man shook his head.

“You’re were meant to lead us away from this, Dread Wolf.” Solas began to turn, but he was too late. The man’s arrow sliced through the air, and time seemed to slow. Solas eyes widened.

He cried out as the arrow pierced through Fenris’ quivering form.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nasty stuff is over, I promise! Almost to the end!

Fenris whimpered, darkness surrounding him. This place felt heavy, almost as if he were underwater. He thrashed against the heavy weight of his own limbs, stumbling blindly. 

He screamed as the pain stirring in his gut intensified, as if someone were cutting him from the inside. He fell in the darkness, writhing and curling in on himself.  


"I am here, ma lath.” He could not see, could not feel. The voice was faint, and fading.  


“I will not leave you, my love…” The voice was even fainter now, like a whisper on the wind. Fenris whimpered as all sensation faded slowly to black.

\--------------------------------

“I am here, ma lath…” Fenris whimpered in his sleep, crying out in pain. His arms began to thrash against Solas’ chest where he cradled his beaten form.  


“I will not leave you, my love…” He rested his lips against the mans forehead and breathed, holding him as he thrashed. The other elf’s fingernails scraped painfully against him, but he held him firmly. He trailed one fingertip lightly along the pink scars that had been trailed into Fenris’ skin. The blood magic used had made the skin difficult to repair.  


He had almost lost him.  


He did lose him, for a few brief moments over the week that had passed.  


He pushed his face into Fenris’ neck and breathed.  


He would never allow that to happen again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have actually had this final chapter written for a long time, but I held off out of laziness and badness to make you all squirm haha! :P Here you are anyway, the final chapter, full of fluff.
> 
> I've been considering what to do next, now that this is being completed. I intend to work on a sequel, but I think I want to try some other things first. 
> 
> I intent to do a few things, though which I will do first is a going to be a surprise:  
> \- Abelas/Fenris - Someone mentioned in a comment that they thought Abelas would have been better for Fenris, and I found myself intrigued. It will be a different story/universe from Lost until you found me, and I don't know what ill do with it yet, but I want to try this pairing out.  
> \- Solas/Abelas - I have a heart wrenching one-shot planned for Solas/Abelas. I plan one-shot, but know me ill want to carry on with it once I've started it, so we will see!   
> \- Omegaverse sequel to lost until you found me - still no idea where I would go with this. It won't be cliché PWP omegaverse, I swear!  
> \- Or, a normal sequel to lost until you found me.
> 
> If you have any prompts of thing you would like to see, please leave a comment!  
> Thank you SO MUCH if you have stuck with this series, it means a lot! :D

“Ugh…” Fenris groaned quietly in disgust as he pried his heavy eyelids open, lids stuck tight with sleep. His vision swam, nausea curling in his gut, but he felt warm, content. As if warm fingers tickled gently along his skin… nothing like the burning agony that had swept over him before. He remembered nothing after it had begun, but pain and the cries of the dying. The wrenching feeling of the veil being ripped apart.

His breath came quicker has memories dripped back into his mind, drop by drop. His vision adjusted to the darkness slowly. The curtains were drawn, and torches extinguished save for one low burning candle beside him.

He blinked slowly, muscles putting up an aching protest as he pulled one hand slowly from the cocoon of blankets around him. The movement brought his hand into contact with soft, warmed skin. He peeled the covers slowly down to reveal a head pressed into his side, an arm curled tightly around his waist as he slept. His chest felt tight as he looked at him, clad in only leggings, but cool air caressed Fenris’s sweat slicked skin unpleasantly and he grimaced, shifting slightly only to freeze when he gazed at his exposed flesh. 

Thin lines carved expertly twisted along his flesh in a horrific compliment to the lyrium already embedded there, healed now to a puckered angry pink along his flesh. He trailed his hand along them in silent horror, following the line from the arm around his waist and stared as his fingertips reached the mess on his collarbone that creeped up to his shoulder.

The flesh here was angry and twisted, as if a demon had chosen to rip chunks from his flesh and a child had pushed it back together. The skin puckered around a central point, twisted and wet looking, were fingers of fire had cauterised the wound. He stared, shaking fingers hovering over the damaged flesh. He could not remember this part. 

He felt the arm around him shift, and then there were gentle lips on his and hands clasping the sides of his face, pulling his vision from the sight of his mutilated flesh. 

“Vhenan.” Solas’ voice was… broken. There was relief and self-hatred and love dripping from every syllable. Fenris fell apart at the sound, eyes wet as his hands clenched into fist on his shoulders, holding him close. They stayed there even after their lips parted, simply breathing. Solas’ finger slipped lower to clasp the sides of his neck, leaning in to breath in his scent. 

“I thought…” His voice croaked, from disuse or emotion he didn’t know. I thought you were too late. 

Fenris shook his head, leaning into the now cold fingers on his neck. 

“How long?” He settled for, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. Solas leaned in, his lips gently caressing his skin. His palms slid down his back, careful of the newly ruined flesh of the exit wound. 

“It had been 4 weeks and 3 days.” His voice was thick but hardened as he continued. “In that time, your heart has stopped twice. Each time, I entered the fade and dragged you back, to a pain riddled body, because I was selfish.” Fenris felt his neck grow wet as he pressed his face further into his neck. “Because I am always…. always, selfish. This was my fault. I promised you that you would be safe there. I promised—” Fenris clasped the elf’s shoulders, pulling him from his hiding place and pressed their lips together tightly as the elf shuddered. When they parted Fenris held him, gaze pinning him. 

“The only ambition I had, in what little I have had of a life, was to die free.” Solas’ face fell, but Fenris shook his head as he tried to pull his gaze from his. “That was before. When my only purpose for existence was running. I had reconciled myself to death long ago, especially after Hawke…. but now, I do not want to die.” Solas pressed their heads together gently, and Fenris smiled as he stared at him. “Thank you.” 

They remained there for a moment before Solas drew back and Fenris watched him as he inspected the wound on his shoulder. He brushed away his fluttering, concerned fingers and glared at him half-heartedly. 

“What happened?” Solas froze a moment and shook his head, rubbing his palm down his face briskly to clear his mind. “My memory is… hazy.” 

“They used you, to attempt to tear down the veil.” His gaze turned sour and his voice took on that tone of self-hatred Fenris hated so much. “Like I would have. They, however, were children playing with magic they did not understand. She resorted to blood magic, using your blood and your lyrium to begin to tear at the veil. She tied the magic to your life. When I… refused… one of my own tried to kill you.” He gazed at the web of destroyed skin. “He did, kill you. In doing so, the magic was cut off. Incomplete. The veil was weakened, in places torn. The healers removed the arrow and cauterised the wound while I entered the fade to try to keep you here.” 

“Torn?” Fenris brows furrowed in concern. The potential devastation was…. extreme, to say the least.

“Yes. Can you not feel it? The veil is so thin here, now. The world has not been returned to it’s former state, but more power seeps past the veil than before.” Fenris’ brow furrowed, but he did. 

The sensation like fingers, dancing across his skin. Fenris shuddered in instinctual disgust, subconscious fear seeping through his veins like ice. Solas caressed his arm at the expression. 

“It is enough for the more attune of the modern elves to become mages, but I believe that you are not so attune to it. The lyrium does not make you more vulnerable, it would simply make you more powerful had you become a mage. There is enough magic to make us more powerful, to return some of the old ways… and the other Evanuris.” Fenris eyes widened. 

“They were released?” Solas hummed. 

“I do not know. I know that there is the potential that their prison was damaged. Even had their essence escaped, there is again no way of knowing if they found their way to a breach in the veil to cross and find a host. We will not know unless they show themselves.” Fenris nodded, jaw set in a grim frown. 

“We could attempt to dismantle the rest of the veil and strengthen their prison, if it remained intact, but I will not do that.” Fenris frowned at him. 

“Why?” Solas gazed at him intently.

“I was selfish. It was my fault.” Fenris shook his head, but Solas shushed him. “No. I would have used you like they did, even if I would not have allowed it to happen like that.” He leaned in to kiss him heatedly. “I will never allow you to be used again, by myself or anyone else. That I promise you, and this time I will die before I break it.” Fenris closed his eyes and returned the kiss, heat building quickly.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan.” He whispered and Fenris smiled.

“And I, you, Amatus.”


End file.
